The Couch
by SCWritings
Summary: QWD2-Roommates. Santana hates the blonde heathen that occupies her dorm room, and the fact that Quinn is on her couch is the last straw. SMUT WARNING. Update: Fixed the formatting, my apologies.


**A/N: Hey, guys! Sorry for the late update. Again, I have a night job, so I'm up at crazy hours of the night. I have a feeling you are really going to enjoy this one (; Reviews are loved and cherished, they keep me going. I love you all, my little darlings, and I hope you are enjoying your summer and Quinntana Week 2015!**

 **Update: I replaces the chapter, hopefully if works. Thank you so much for pointing it out to me, bonus points for you.**

 **Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own anything…**

* * *

 _God, I can't wait to just lay on the couch and watch T.V. and just relax_ , Santana thinks as she walks down the hall towards her dorm room. _If only it weren't for that blonde haired heathen…_ Santana really isn't fond of her roommate, Quinn. She swears, even her studying is loud, and she has this weird compulsion to nit-pick over everything. So, when she slips the key into the door and opens it to find the very blonde heathen she was thinking about laying on the very couch she was going to lay on, her shoulders deflate and a pout forms on her lips.

"That's _my_ spot…" Santana says from the doorway.

Quinn looks over and almost laughs at the state Santana is in. Her hair is messed up from the wind, and her black trench coat seems to have been hastily buttoned up over another jacket so the Latina looks almost stuffed. Add that to the three bags she has thrown over her body and she looks like a hot mess. After a good look at Santana, the blonde just shrugs. "Tough." Quinn _would_ feel bad if it weren't for the hatred flowing through her veins at the other girl. She was so _crude_ and she's pretty sure Santana's been through all of her things once or twice before. Plus, she never does anything around the dorm, it's a complete mess in her room.

A couple of thumps later and jackets thrown about later, and Quinn finds herself under a rather surprising amount of weight. "Oof!" she grunts as the air is forced out of her lungs. She looks up to see her roommate trying to get comfortable _on top_ of the blonde. "Get your fat ass off of me!" Quinn tries to push Santana off of her, but her hands aren't in the best position to do so, so she just starts slapping the other girl in hopes of annoying her enough to move.

Santana just catches Quinn's flailing arms and forces her hands under her body so the blonde can't move them. "You'd think you'd be nicer since I'm holding you hostage over my couch."

"Fine, sit on me, I don't care." Quinn huffs as she turns her head to the T.V. set to continue watching her show.

It's as if Santana just noticed, because she begins looking around for some kind of object like a crazy woman. "No, no, no. Where's the remote, because I am _not_ watching Pretty Little Liars."

A dramatic sigh comes from Quinn as she says, "Well, seems like you'll just have to deal since you're _sitting on the remote_."

 _Oh, she's smart,_ Santana thinks, but there is no way she's going to let her win, so she begrudgingly crosses her arms and gets comfortable for the show.

* * *

"Nah, she's totally alive," Santana says as the countdown for the next episode pops up on Netflix.

"Okay, but if she's alive, then whose body did they find?" Quinn asks from underneath Santana.

"Wait, they found a body?"

"Well, _yeah_. If you'd have been watching the show, you'd know that," Quinn says, rather annoyed at her roommate.

Santana shrugs. "So start it over."

"Hello-oo? The remote is under you."

"Oh, right." Santana arches her back to reach around for the remote, brushing literally every part of Quinn's lower body, making the blonde blush furiously. She's so distracted, she forgets to even try to push Santana off of her. "Ha, got it." The Latina passes Quinn the remote. "Okay, start it over."

* * *

"I still think she's actually alive." Santana yawns but refuses to get off of Quinn.

"Then whose body is it?"

"I dunno, probably some kid the pedo, Ian, killed or something."

"Ian dies."

"What?!" Santana whips her head to look at the smug smile Quinn is wearing. "Why would you- That is so not cool."

Santana puts extra force into her grind as she wiggles around on Quinn. "Ow! Fuck, just watch the stupid show."

It's just after the next episode that Santana notices Quinn is unusually quiet. When she looks down, she sees that Quinn has fallen asleep and silently thanks whoever is up there that she can finally retire for the night without losing the Couch War.

She gets up and heads to her room, but no-one but Santana sleeps on Santana's couch so she wheels around and pokes Quinn on the shoulder. "Quinn." Nothing. She pokes again. "Get off my couch." The blonde rolls over and doesn't even move. "Ugh…" she groans, figuring she can't just pick her up. The urge to drop her would just be too strong and she can't have a lawsuit. So, she gets a blanket and pillow from Quinn's room and haphazardly throws the blanket on Quinn and she sets the pillow on top of her head. Satisfied with her handy work, she walks off towards her room and plops on her bed. She's put before her head hits the pillow.

* * *

Her vision is bleary when she opens her eyes, and she has to take a moment before she realizes that she's awake. She's awake at 8am. On a weekend. She's awake at 8am on a weekend because there's music coming from the living room. There's music coming from the living room. Loud music. With bass. _I am going to_ kill _her._

Santana rips the blankets off of her body and has to catch herself on the nightstand. _Oh god, head rush._ Despite not being able to see, she walks towards where she knows the door is, and grips the doorframe to catch herself, she opens the door and her vision clears to reveal Quinn with bed head, dancing to a Ke$ha song, using a spatula as a microphone. Santana's eyes rake down her body, and she notices she's in a plain white t-shirt and some pink boy shorts. For the first time in a very, _very_ long time, Santana notices how attractive her roommate is.

This first time she noticed, it was when she first opened the door to her dorm, and saw her very attractive roommate. Then said roommate proceeded to be a heathen, and there went that.

"Oh, the buzz kill is awake," Quinn mumbles as she turns back to her bacon and pancakes.

Well, there it goes again, now she's just a blonde heathen. "Well, _buzz kill_ here will be in the shower. No, you can't join."

Quinn scoffs. "As if."

Santana puts extra effort into her hips as she walks to the bathroom, not even caring enough to look back. If she had, she would have seen the blonde's stare. Quinn shakes her head and proceeds to flip her pancakes, and ready her bacon. God, she loves bacon.

She's eating her breakfast on the couch when Santana comes out of the bathroom wearing a loose pink tank top and some black sweat shorts that cling to her legs. Again, if she was paying attention instead of drying her hair with a towel, she would have noticed Quinn's stare, raking up and down her legs; mouth full of bacon.

The Latina drops the towel into the hamper and whips her head up, throwing her hair behind her head. Quinn snaps her head to face the T.V. and remembers to swallow before she legitimately starts choking. She wouldn't even be checking out her roommate right now fi Santana hadn't touched her last night while looking for the remote.

"Uh, uh. No me gusta." Santana stomps over in front of Quinn and bends down, giving Quinn an excellent view down her shirt. "Get up offs my couch, afores I ends you."

"No, I'm good." Quinn responds before setting her empty plate on the side table and attempts to peer around Santana to see her show.

"Nope. Just… No." Santana proceeds to pick Quinn up off the couch and plop her on the ground.

Quinn cried out in pain, holding her back. It's a cry that Santana winces at. A cry that makes her bend down and actually check on her roommate. Quinn is biting her lip in pain as tears leak from her eyes, she rolls over onto her stomach trying to relieve the pain shooting through her back and down her legs. "Oh, god. I am so sorry." Santana moves to touch Quinn, but she doesn't want to make it worse, so her hands just kind of hover over her back.

"Agh," Quinn lets out a sob. "My legs!" Quinn cries, as she clutches at the carpet and her back.

"What do I do?!" Santana is freaking out, she's never seen her roommate like this before, then again, she's never really paid attention to her.

Quinn gasps, trying to catch her breath, no matter how many gulps of air she inhales, her chest burns. _Everything burns_. "Pills," she gasps. Her knuckles are white from gripping the carpet so hard.

Santana bursts through the door of Quinn's room and walks straight to the nightstand where she knows the pills are from all of her late night rummaging. She grabs three bottles and gets down on her knees in front of Quinn. "Which ones?"

It takes every single muscle in her body to let go of the carpet and reach towards the middle bottle, she taps it and Santana opens it, pouring out one, then two pills when she sees Quinn hold up two fingers. There's a bottle of water on the coffee table, and Santana grabs it to hand to Quinn.

Moving to her side, Santana gently sets her hands on Quinn's side, rolling her over onto her back, causing another cry of pain. "I'm sorry, but you can't take pills on your stomach." Santana slowly lifts Quinn's body up to rest against her own as so puts the pills in the blonde's mouth and holds the water up for her to drink out of.

It's quiet. Very quiet as Santana holds the blonde to her. Never in a million years would Santana think she'd be in this position, but she isn't disgusted or put off by it. It's warm, and comforting for them both. Neither of them wanted to move, and Quinn doubted she could anyway.

The blonde wiggles her toes and lets out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank God," she whispers towards the ceiling.

"What…what was that?" Santana is almost afraid to ask. Afraid of Quinn blowing up on her.

A pale hand makes its way along a tan arm to rest against the other girl's hand, showing Santana that it's okay. "I got into a car accident when I was seventeen. My spinal cord was crushed and I was paralyzed for a really long time. After months of physical therapy, I was able to walk again. I just have to be careful."

Santana rests her forehead against the back of the other girl's head, she can smell her vanilla shampoo and she fights the urge to nuzzle her nose into the blonde locks. Instead, she moves her head to the side slightly and whispers into Quinn's ear. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea, I am so _fucking_ sorry."

She doesn't really know if it's the vulnerability of both of them, the position they are in, they way Santana is holding her, or a mix of all three; but it really doesn't matter what compels her to turn her head, because she does it anyway. When Santana's eyes lock onto teary green ones, she can't find the strength to look away. This isn't the girl she's lived with for the past six months. This isn't the blonde haired heathen she's grown to hate. This is just a girl who's scared. This is a girl in pain. Pain that Santana caused, and she'll do anything to make that pain go away.

Hesitantly, Santana brings her hand up to gently wipe at the tears that have fallen during the chaos. When she doesn't move her hand after having cleaned off the tears, Quinn sort of nuzzles her cheek into Santana's hand, craving the comfort that comes along with it.

They never break eye contact. Not when Santana moves away from Quinn. Not when she slides her hands underneath the blonde's weak legs. Not when she picks her up and carries her to her own room. Not when she sets the girl on her bed. Not when Santana crawls on Quinn's bed and lies next to her. They never stop looking at each other until Santana runs her hand down the side of the blonde's face and down to her neck. Santana follows her movements with her eyes as she tucks blonde hair behind the other girl's ear. A sharp inhale brings her attention back to Quinn's face. Again, she's met with vulnerability and something else she's never seen on the blonde before. She doesn't have time to decipher it, though, because Quinn lifts her own hand and pulls Santana's face closer to her own by her neck.

Their foreheads rest together, their breath mixing, eyes flicking from the other's lips and then back up to each other's eyes. Neither of them are completely sure who makes the first movement, perhaps it's both of them at the same time, but the thought doesn't last long when their lips connect.

Gentle hands explore soft skin as Santana inches her fingertips under the hem of Quinn's t-shirt. They don't separate until the need for air arises, and when they do, it's like some kind of warmth fades away. They both feel the desire and yearn to connect their lips again, a newfound passion coming forth as Santana slides her leg over the blonde's body and rests half of her weight on her body.

"Am I hurting you?" the tan girl whispers onto Quinn's lips as she continues to rest her body on top of the other girl.

Quinn smiles at Santana and surges upwards to catch her lips again. "God, no. You feel so good," she half sighs, half moans into her mouth as Santana runs her hand along Quinn's sides and cups her chest over the thin material of her t-shirt.

Hands make their way down Santana's back and down to her ass as Quinn gives it a gentle squeeze, causing Santana to gasp giving Quinn the perfect opportunity to slowly slide her tongue into the other girl's mouth. She gently teases Santana's tongue with her own before lightly nipping at her bottom lip. A moan leaves Santana's lips and is swallowed by Quinn. She feels legs move underneath her and she breaks the kiss to find Quinn's legs wrapping around her lower back, and she feels hands trying to pull her shirt up.

Santana breaks contact just long enough to pull her tank top over her head, and as soon as it's gone, she locks her lips onto Quinn's pulse point as she runs her hand from the blonde's knee to her thigh. "Are you okay?" the Latina asks as her hand gets closer to Quinn's lower back, to the spot where it is, or was, hurting.

Fingers curl in dark locks of hair as Quinn lets out a breathy moan. Santana vaguely feels Quinn nodding her head as she lightly grazes her teeth along her collarbone. "Santana…" Quinn says, barely audible from the breathlessness the blonde is feeling.

Santana snaps her head away from Quinn's neck, afraid that she's hurt her in some way. "What? Did I do something wrong?"

A giggle and a smile, then, "No, I just need this off," Quinn says as she grabs at her own shirt. Santana blushes out of embarrassment and slowly lifts herself up enough to pull the offending garment off of Quinn and on the floor. While Santana is sitting up, Quinn runs her hands down the tan skin covering her ribs and then her fingers tickle the very well defined ab muscles Santana seems to have been blessed with. "God, you're beautiful." Quinn almost feels insecure when it comes to Santana. Seeing her body like this almost makes her want to hide her own.

Santana frowns at the look on Quinn's face. "Hey…" Quinn looks away from Santana's gaze. "Hey, what's wrong?" she asks as she cups the blonde's face in order to see her.

"You're body…" Quinn begins, "it's just so…perfect." Quinn rubs her own abdomen. "And mine is just…mangled."

For the first time, Santana notices some small scars littering her stomach, and she suspects she'll see a scar on her back from the accident. "The accident?" Quinn nods, and Santana moves her arms away from the pale skin. "Your scars tell a story. Like battle scars…" Santana whispers the last part as she traces each one with her fingertips.

Quinn brings Santana's head down in a heated kiss. "Thank you," she says between lip locks as she snaps the clasp of the other girl's bra and throws it to the floor with the other clothes. The blonde's hands make their way to tan breasts, and she runs her thumb across pert nipples, causing a deep moan to escape from Santana's throat and Santana's hands slide from her stomach down to the pink boy shorts covering a throbbing center, desperate to be touched.

As Quinn's mouth moves from Santana's lips and down to her neck, Santana slips her hand further into the blonde's underwear, finding slick wetness in her core. "God, you're so wet, Quinn."

She moans at the feeling of having Santana touch her this way and arches her back, needing more contact. "More…" she moans. Santana obliges and runs her finger around her clit before entering the blonde slowly in order of her to get used to the feeling. "So good…" Quinn breathes out as she clutches Santana's shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

Santana hisses at the mixture of pain and pleasure before she starts to move her fingers, pumping them in and out of the blonde. Her moans grow in volume as Santana grows more eager with her actions. "So close… Don't stop, San."

Nails rake down Santana's back as Quinn comes undone from Santana's fingers. Her mouth open in a silent moan from the pleasure coursing through her body and the tan girl just stares at how fucking gorgeous she is during the midst of her orgasm. She can't help the urge to lean down a kiss her as she comes down from the clouds.

Hands start to travel upon tan skin again as Quinn regains her bearings enough to kick her own underwear off and all but rip off her partners. "Eager are we?" Santana teases from above the blonde.

"I want to taste you." Well, _that_ shuts Santana up as Quinn flips them over, and starts to kiss down the Latina's neck and chest, pay extra attention to the girl's hard nipples, and then traces every defined line of her abs. Santana is squirming by the time the blonde makes it to her inner thigh, which she gives a few nips and then soothes them with her tongue before getting agonizingly closer to Santana's center. "Do you want it?"

"God, yes," Santana breathes out, her knuckles white from gripping the sheets of Quinn's bed. Oh, how the roles are reversed, and for very different reasons.

Slowly, oh so slowly, Quinn lowers her head before taking a long lick up Santana's slit and then flicking her tongue over her clit before sucking it into her mouth. "Oh, fucking shit!" Santana all but yells into the empty dorm.

Quinn continues to pay close attention to her bundle of nerves as she slips one, then two fingers into Santana and starts pumping slow and then gradually increases her pace as she feels the tightening around her fingers. Santana isn't even forming coherent words at this point, and it isn't until her knees lock and a very loud and broken moan comes from Santana that Quinn knows she's done a job well done.

She slides up the girl's body until they come face to face and Santana kisses her, tasting herself on her lips. "Man, I love that couch."

* * *

 **A/N: DID YOU LIKE IT? DID YOU? I HAD A GREAT TIME WRITING IT. Please review and tell me I don't suck. Okay, love you, bye.**


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